


A Compliment

by evila_elf



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A left-handed compliment, actually!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Compliment

Originally posted 11/12/05

 

A joke. All it was was a joke. A “You went out on a date with Cameron and you don’t even like her. You never go out with me” joke. Yeah, one of those.

House ponders the statement while Wilson taps his foot and wonders about the strange look that came over House’s face. “Tonight,” the older doctor finally announces. “Eight. My place. I’ll make reservations.”

Wilson blinks. “And here all I was hoping for was Pizza Hut,” he says with a straight face. Like he had planned on House taking him out to eat. Reservations!?

“I can always change my mind, you know.”

“I’ll be there at eight,” he confirms, twinkle in his dark eyes and a smile upon his lips.

***

At 7:50, Wilson is greeted at the door by an appraising gaze. “How do _I_ look?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Like desert.” House leans forward and brushes his tongue over Wilson’s lips.

“You were one of the naughty boys who always ate his dessert before dinner, weren’t you?”

“Only if the dessert was this good...” He leans forward again.

Wilson leans away. “The reservation?”

“A bit of hindsight. We still have a half hour before we leave. How do I look?”

Wilson dives forward with his lips and the duo nearly falls out the still open door. He pauses while House closes it, then House spins Wilson around to pin his body against it, their lips back in place, noses rubbing together in their own private Eskimo kiss.

When had their relationship become more than platonic? A year ago when they shared their first kiss while completely drunk? Two months ago when they had been completely sober? Now?

Wilson travels his hand downward from its perch against House’s cheek, trailing down the outside of his shirt, only to take a u-turn at the bottom and travel upwards underneath the material. Warm hands against burning skin.

House gasps away from the mouth when Wilson removes his hand, only to replace it against his crotch. He can feel the heat of that hand, already warmed from his skin. His hips jerk against his will and against Wilson’s hand.

Wilson’s lips are now against House’s bare neck, kissing and nipping just below the collar line; out of sight, but not far from mind. He rests his forehead there after a moment and concentrates on unzipping House’s pants. Slowly. He feels the hot breaths ruffle the hair above his ear and hears a frustrated groan that tells him to ‘hurry the Hell up!’ Wilson obliges, but still at his extremely slow pace. He wraps his right arm around House’s waist and back, then with his other hand, he slips it into the open jeans, taking a firm hold of House’s dick.

House gasps, wanting to thrust himself against the grip, but the body pressing against his is allowing him no movement. “You’re killing me, Jimmy!”

“Be interesting to see what would be listed as cause of death...” Wilson had been moving his hand gently back and forth, but now pauses to ponder the question.

“Kill me now and you will have to buy your own meal.”

“Nothing new.”

House opens his mouth to begin to argue/whine/beg, but Wilson quiets him with a little kiss and a lot of tongue before grabbing him again.

Their foreheads are resting together now. House’s breaths are coming in quick gasps against the oncologist’s cheek. He is nearing the edge and silently prays to the God of Tootsie Pops that Wilson won’t stop, won’t speak. So close...so fucking close...A shivering tingle starts at the base of his spine and travels upwards to his brain before crashing back down and out.

Wilson and the wall are the only things keeping a spent House on his feet. He had dropped his cane at some point. It lay forgotten. “I should dress like this more often,” House says in a rush, the 7 words sounding like one, his breathing not quite under control. “Because that...that was the best left-handed compliment I have ever gotten!”

***

The dinner was excellent. They ate a lot and drank too much wine. And neither ordered dessert.


End file.
